Guest column: Remembering Etna High

People often ask me, “how’d you come into the Marines?” I usually start with, “well, Mr. Oster taught me physics in the 10th grade;

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By Matt Travis,Colonel USMC

Siskiyou Daily News, Yreka, CA

By Matt Travis,Colonel USMC

Posted Jun. 10, 2014 at 4:00 PM

By Matt Travis,Colonel USMC
Posted Jun. 10, 2014 at 4:00 PM

People often ask me, “how’d you come into the Marines?” I usually start with, “well, Mr. Oster taught me physics in the 10th grade; he told me to consider Navy Reserve Officer Training Corps to get through college; he had flown for the Navy in World War II, I recall.” Thirty two years later, and after 25 years of service, I’d do it all over again. None of it would have happened save for growing up in Etna with some of the coolest people in the world, and going to Etna High School.

Three decades ago this month, I graduated from EHS, and I remain grateful for the teachers, friends, school, town and community from whence I came. If nothing else, this is a letter to say hello to my classmates, to remember some good times and to thank the teachers and coaches who helped us along the way to graduate 30 years ago.

I joined the “class of 1984” in kindergarten when my family moved to Etna in 1972. That’s when I met Bridgette L, Shellee R, Ian Y, Chris T, Chris M, Julie H (… can’t name ‘em all) and the rest of the gang. It was a privilege to grow up with some of the greatest people on the planet right in Scott Valley. My early memories are marked by a super baseball coach (Bill Ewing of the mighty Etna Cubs) and some “salt of the earth” teachers: Pete Wright (the artist), Jim Zanotti (Christmas trees from the ceiling, green pancakes and St. Patrick’s Day, watching the 1977 inauguration, Craig Young (‘learning us’ the Chronicles of Narnia), and Art Hicks (coaching our ‘world class’ flag football team).

We started Junior High in fall 1978, figured out class schedules, Boston played on the lunchroom jukebox (“More Than a Feeling” is still at the top of the best 70s music). Al Kiep taught us to type, Bud Webster described “Manifest Destiny.” The “1 and only” Don Miller made band about the funest class in school, and somehow coerced ol’ George to teach me a few notes on the Baritone. The hostage crisis kicked off in fall ’79 – that seemed flat wrong; we started to realize the world is a big, complicated place.

By the end of eighth grade, Bill Wilkins told us, “the next four years will be the fastest of your life.” He was probably right. Many of the guys were introduced to high school with a rousing welcome by Butch Bigham that August when most would have rather been swimming; I remember getting crushed by Joe T in my first tackling drill … joy.

That began a journey filled with great life lessons you only learn playing team sports: sweat, run, pain, hit, tackle, catch the pass, learn the plays, work together, responsibility, sacrifice, determination and a whole lot of fun.

Page 2 of 2 - Tom Ball taught earth science, Gwen Luce tried to teach us French, “Bon Jour!” Jeffy Davis ran a pretty tight drama club; all I did was watch the pros act, but I had fun making dry ice do its thing. “Chariots of Fire” hit theaters in 1981 … my all-time favorite movie. Bob Carter showed us the merits of geometry.

Melanie Fowle showed us how to write and to do it well, and did a thousand other things to help challenge us to do our best. She certainly did more to get me into Purdue (go Boilermakers!) than I will ever be able to repay … thx ma’am! Don Duncan taught civics, and ran his own version of “Friday Night Lights.” We took a couple teams to the section championships, but couldn’t quite get it over the top. Great times, Coach! Freda Walker helped us play “house,” I guess I’d call it … home economics, is it? Somewhere, mid-high school, our friends from Fort Jones joined us.

No way I will ever forget Young Life with the “irreplaceable” Bill Birch; every Wednesday night; wacky games, “trying to” sing, a Bible story to boot. BB also taught us trigonometry, coached tennis and led our guys’ Bible study – got me grounded; Sir, you are nothing short of a hero to me, and to many.

My mighty Oakland Raiders won two Super Bowls between 1980 and 1984. Urgh! Musically, you can’t get more 80s than “Journey and Alabama.” Ice cream at Murphy’s Drug was always a treat; thanks Scott for moving to Etna! I remember watching a game playoff between the Yankees and Red Sox in the school library – good times.

We played our own version of MLB in Etna, and somehow in May 1984, we won the Northern Section baseball championship – my hat’s off to you Butch Bigham ... thanks Coach!

I suppose there is no way to delicately wrap up this walk down memory lane, so in June 1984, (a couple days after Reagan’s iconic speech at Normandy as I recall) we all walked out of the gym for the last time. It’s always fun to remember. Not all the memories are grand, and the grand ones perhaps don’t quite deserve the “glory” we attribute to them. Thanks to you teachers for pouring your lives into so many of us kids, and for doing it unselfishly for many years.

To my class mates, thanks! I wish I were in Etna this summer. I am currently stationed overseas and in my 26th year serving in the Marines. My awesome wife and our three great kids are back in Virginia. I pray God’s grace on each of you this summer, and I look forward to seeing any or all of you the next time I visit the valley. Sincerely and Semper Fidelis ...